Remembering the Little Maple Leaf (APH Allies Fiction)
by Owlie-Tweets
Summary: Canada is always forgotten, so he's used to it. But what happens when he snaps, and he just can't take it anymore? Slight mentions of FrUk and Rochu!


_*Canada's POV*_

As always, I'm just sitting here, watching the others sort things out in rather violent ways. Feliciano, Ludwig, Kiku, Francis, Alfred, Arthur, Ivan and Yao. And as always, no one seems to be asking for my view on things. I mean, this happens all the time, and I should be used to it, but sometimes it bugs me just a little. Well...today, maybe it bugs me more than _just_ a little.

"No, Alfred!," Arthur yells at the American, beating him on the head with a book. "That idea is bloody stupid, you idiot!"

Alfred laughs, and yanks on Arthur's tie. "No it's not - it's smart!," he cuts in. "Besides, your's wasn't all that great either."

Yao sighs sadly, and hides behind Ivan. "Aiyah, if only someone else had better way of getting through this," he sighs.

That statement irritates me a lot. They could turn to me, but they never do! It's like I've blended into the air or something!

Alfred laughs again, and approaches Ivan. "Come on, Yao! There's no one else here, let's just go with my idea!," he jeers, which earns him a smack on the head from Ivan.

My own brother...can't even see me? My blood boils, and I stand right up, smacking both fists on the table in front of me.

"THAT'S IT!," I scream, as everyone finally looks up at me "I am _**ALWAYS**_ here, but you guys _never_ see me! It's like I'm invisible! You never bother asking for my opinion, or for my help or...or for _ANYTHING_! I've put up with this for a long time, but now I just can't take it anymore!"

Arthur turns to Alfred. "You have a twin brother, Al?," he asks him.

His comment hurts even more. They never noticed me ever. Beginning to cry harder than I've cried ever, I leave the room, and run outside into the pouring rain, running off into the city where I can be alone.

_*France's POV*_

Alfred's br-...er...Matthew runs outside, as far away from us as possible, crying and feeling hurt.

I look over at Alfred with a horrified look. "Matthew, wait!," I cry, standing up from my chair. But it seems like he already left.

Alfred frowns. "I think we've been too hard on him," he says quietly. "Everything is true; whenever he's here, we don't pay attention to him...like he is invisible."

Ludwig lowers his eyelids, looking sorry and upset. "Ja," he agrees. "Maybe vhe should've put effort into knoving he vhas sere."

I sigh sadly. "Alfred, let's you and I go look for him," I propose, before leaning down to kiss Arthur's cheek. "And yeu, mon cherrì, find some blankets to wrap him in when we bring him back."

Arthur nods, and pecks my cheek back. "Of course, love," he answers.

On that note, Alfred and I leave the building into the dark, rainy night. The rain falls like buckets of water from the dark, starless sky. The streets are lonely, as it's late at almost 11pm at night. Only cars pass by us, driving through puddles and splashing Alfred and I.

"Matthew!," I cry. "Come back! We're sorry about ignoring yeu!" The only thing that answers is a slight echo of my voice in the dark alleyways.

Alfred seems to be frantic, a lump forming in his throat and his hands shaking slightly. "Matthew!," he calls out even louder. "I'm sorry for ignoring ya, bro! I really am! We all are! Please come back!"

Even still, no one answers him. In fact, the dim streetlights on the sidewalks shut off all around, leaving Alfred and I to stand in the dark. Alfred shakes his head, sitting on a nearby bench. "What if we don't find him?," he wonders sadly, his voice weighed down. "It'll be all my fault. I can't even remember my own twin brother!"

I sit beside the American, and pat his back. "Never yeu mind, Alfred, mon ami," I reassure him. "We'll find him. We'll stay out and look for him even if it takes all night."

Alfred doesn't answer. Tears run along the rims of his eyes and falling to his lap, he sighs, his voice shaking. Though his wheaten blonde hair is slicked down against his forehead and cheeks, and rain water streams down the bridge of his nose, his neck, and his hands, I know for a fact that he's crying. But, Alfred never cries! He's always happy and laughing about something...sometimes he laughs for no reason. But I know he's worried about Matthew...he's _scared_ for him. Feels bad for his brother.

Wrapping an arm around Alfred, I give his back a pat. "Ne pleure pas, Alfred," I whisper gently. "We're going to find Matthew. I promise yeu zat we'll find him, and bring him home safe and sound."

I let Alfred have his tears for a few minutes. The salty tears and fresh rain mixes in on his face, and makes him shudder a little. I wrap my arm tighter around his shoulders to keep him warm in the thunder and lightning. Alfred whimpers a little, his glasses getting fogged up. "Matthew," he sobs quietly. "I'm so sorry."

Alfred sniffles, and cleans off the foggy lenses of his glasses before standing up, tears still running down his face. "Are yeu feeling any better, mon ami?," I ask him, standing up as well. Alfred shakes his head. "No," he answers. "But we need to find Matthew."

I nod, and look down at my feet. "Alright then," I say quietly. "But if yeu need a break, we can sit down again."

The two of us are quiet as we scan the dark streets, straining to see in the nighttime atmosphere for Matthew. It's almost eerie quiet, except for Alfred and I padding against the damp asphalt and the sounds of nature; the wind blusters, and the rain falls heavily. A couple of times, I look to Alfred, sweeping my light blonde hair behind my ears.

Alfred sighs, and glances to me, his cornflower blue eyes tearing up again. "Francis?," he asks solemnly, shuffling a foot against the ground briefly.

"Oui?," I answer, looking up from the street below and at him.

"What if he's hurt?," Alfred worries. "Or kidnapped. Or raped, or killed? What if he...k-killed...hi...h-hi..."

I can tell he's trying to finish his sentence, but his words are taken by a loud sob. Frowning, I rest a hand on his shoulder, and look into his glassy eyes. "Alfred, mon ami," I insinuate into his ear. "Zere's no need to sink like zis! Matthew will be prefectly fine. I promise."

Alfred sniffles, and wipes his dewy face. Caressing Alfred's shoulder, I wrap an arm around them both, and we continue to walk down the street, keeping a keen eye for Matthew.

As we walk along the sidewalk near the river, I make sure to keep my hearing and vision acute, even in the cimmerian city, just in case Matthew is padding around in the sand on the shore. But I don't hear anything, and I don't think Alfred does either.

The two of us agree that it would be best to check along the beach, in case Matthew is out of sight somewhere around there. But Alfred slaps me upon the arm and points to something on the dock.

"Dude, what's that?," he whispers, pointing to something in the distance. I snap my head to where he's pointing. Sure enough, I see the lighthouse beam quickly sweep over a figure sitting on the dock in a fetal position. He wears a red sweatshirt, black sweatpants, and white sneakers, On his hands he wears woven mittens in maroon and white that can pull back to make them fingerless gloves. His wheaten blonde hair is wavy and drenched with the rain, a single curl that is long and fluttering around his face.

It is Matthew...!

"It's him!," I hiss excitedly into his ear. Alfred's frown turns to a smile, as the two of us run over to Matthew.

At a closer view, we realize that the younger, Canadian nation is sorrowfully sniveling under into his arms that he wrapped around his legs. His glasses lenses are smogged over with a mixture of his breath and the rain. Kneeling down slowly, I place a hand on Matthew's right shoulder, and Alfred places one on the other. "Matthew?," he peeps, leaning into his brother's ear.

Matthew snuffles, looking over his shoulder. "I must've fallen asleep," he laments, his voice nasally. "Someone actually remembered me. It's all just a dream! This is too good to be true!" He turns back to his knees and cries even harder. I notice him reach down with a hand, beginning to nip at his ankle with his nails.

I lean down and pet his arm. "Matthew," I whisper. "Yeu aren't dreaming. We're really here."

Matthew just breaks down in tears, curling into a tighter ball. Sighing softly, tears welling in my own ocean blue eyes, I squat on the balls of my feet, and lift Matthew up off the wet dock, and into my arms. He's so small, that he can wrap his arms around my neck, and let his legs dangle around mine.

"Matthew, yeu know what?," I whisper into his ear. "I remember when you were just a tiny Maple Leaf. When I took care of yeu."

Matthew sniffles. "Y-you do?," he asks, his voice shaking still. I smile with a nod. "Oui," I answer. "You were si minuscule, and very cute. I could wrap yeu in yeur little blanket, and yeu luffed being snuggled. Do yeu remember zat?"

Matty giggles, and sniffles again. "Yeah," he whispers. "I do. Didn't I have trouble sleeping at night too?"

I chuckle, and nod, stroking Matthew's wet hair. "Oui, oui," I tell him. "Yeu would cry and cry for hours. Sometimes I just didn't know what to do, and I would end up crying right wif yeu! But zen I sang yeu zat lullaby."

Matthew nuzzles my shoulder. "Oh yeah...I remember that," he says softly to my hair. "H-how did it go again?"

I chuckle again, patting his back. "Here, why don't I sing it for yeu? Yeu luffed it a lot when yeu were little," I whisper. I breathe in, and gently begin to sing into his ear:

_Quatre consonnes et trois voyelles_

_C'est le prenom de Raphael_

_Je le murmure mon oreille_

_Et chaque lettre m'merveille_

_C'est le trma qui m'ensorcelle_

_Dans le prenom de Raphael_

_Comme il se mele au a au e,_

_Comme il les entre-mele au l_

_Raphael l'air d'un ange_

_Mais c'est un diable de l'amour_

_Du bout des hanches_

_Et de son regard de velours_

_Quand il se penche_

_Quand il se penche mes nuits sont blanches_

_Et pour toujours_

_Hmm_

_J'aime les notes au got de miel_

_Dans le prenom de Raphael_

_Je les murmure mon reveil_

_Entre les plumes du sommeil_

_Et pour que la journee soit belle_

_Je me parfume Raphael_

_Peau de chagrin ptre ternel_

_Archange trange d'un autre ciel_

_Pas de delice pas d'etincelle_

_Pas de malice sans Raphael_

_Les jours sans lui deviennent ennui_

_Et mes nuits s'ennuient de plus belle_

_Pas d'inquietude pas de prelude_

_Pas de promesse l'eternel_

_Juste le monde dans notre lit_

_Juste nos vies en arc en ciel_

_Raphael a l'aire d'un sage_

_Et ses paroles sont de velours_

_De sa voix grave_

_Et de son regard sans detour_

_Quand il raconte_

_Quand il invente je peux l'couter_

_Nuit et jour_

_Hmm_

_Quatre consonnes et trois voyelle_

_C'est le prenom de Raphael_

_Je lui murmure son oreille_

_Ca le fait rire comme un soleil_

When I finish my song, Matthew smiles. "I remember now...I always fell quiet in your arms when you sang that song," he remembers.

I touch my fingertip to Matty's nose. "Oui, yeu did, mon seul petit," I whisper softly. "And right after, yeu'd be sleeping like a little baby. And then I'd put yeu in yeur little bed, and yeu would sleep right beside me all zrough ze night."

Matty smiles, seemingly touched by the memories, and the fact that I remembered about him. Alfred shyly approaches the two of us, and pets Matthew's back. "And...do you remember when we used to throw around that baseball we had, dude?," he susurrantes into his ear.

The Canadian smiles again, and allows himself to giggle a little. "Yeah!," he laughs. "I'd always miss the catch and end up getting hit somewhere!"

Alfred envelopes him into a hug as I continue to hold him. "You were really little, too," he sighs happily. "I've always missed you, Matty, brah! You should come back to us!"

Matty frowns a little. "But...the others? They still don't see me," he realizes sadly, resting his forehead on my shoulder.

I pet his hair again softly. "Don't worry - zey all realized right away when yeu went running away," I tell him, patting his back.

"Yeah. They're real sorry about it too," Alfred adds. "So...do you wanna come back now? And get warm and have something to eat and stuff?"

Matthew nods. "Y-yeah, let's go," he says. So we walk, as I carry Matthew back to the meeting place, and into the building. The very moment we walk in, the others look up at the Canadian being cradled carefully in my arms.

"Matthew!," they cry. I can see Matthew smile as I place him back on his feet.

_*Canada's POV*_

Arthur comes over to me with a towel, and ruffles me off. "Thank goodness you're alright, mate," he says to him. "We were afraid that you got hurt or went missing!"

I smile. "R-really?," I squeal happily, but make sure to stay quiet so I don't sound eager. Ivan appears beside Arthur as he finishes up with drying me off. "Of course, da!," he says with a smile. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to our itty-bitty Canadian friend!"

I giggle, as the larger Russian wraps me in a blanket, and carries me to a nearby couch, where he settles me down, and carefully sets a pillow behind my back. "There. Are you comfortable, da?," he asks kindly.

I nod. "Y-yes thank you," I say quietly, feeling loved and cared about. Ludwig, Feliciano and Kiku also place a few heating pads on my limbs to keep me warm and stop my violent shivering. Yao carries over something in his arms, and a bottle in his hands.

"Maple syrup, aru?," he offers, handing me the thermal, light brown bottle. I smile shyly, and hold it with both mittened hands. "Th-thanks, Yao!," I beam softly.

He smiles as well, patting my head. "Of course!," he says. "I believe this yours too, aru. I found him playing with Panda," He places a white ball of fluffiness in my arms. It's my Kumajiro!

The little white bear looks up at me, staring at my chin. "Who are you?," he asks. Arthur chuckles. "Shouldn't you know by now?," he asks the bear. "He's Canada!"

I smile, feeling happy that I'm beginning to be remembered after so long.


End file.
